


Chapter 4's Aftermath: Orion Pax Gets Comforted

by UnknownXeno



Series: "My Love For You"  Off shoots [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Amica Endurae, Atlas is a Good Boy, Comfort, Just like his Beft Friend, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownXeno/pseuds/UnknownXeno
Summary: After the terror of Overlord has passed, Jazz takes a badly shaken Orion back to Iacon.





	Chapter 4's Aftermath: Orion Pax Gets Comforted

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is the first of what I hope to be a few off shoots that will show other perspectives outside of Soundwave. 
> 
>  
> 
> Yet again credit for the Simfur Rounded (and other Cybertronian Canines) Goes to CosmicDanger!  
> http://cosmicdanger.tumblr.com/post/132690530422/polyhexan-nightstrike-with-its-nocturnal-habits

Orion was firmly latched onto Jazz through the whole ride on the transport shuttle. The poor terrified archivist was nearly on top of the spy mech and Jazz thanked Primus that his armor was strong enough to withstand Orion’s crushing embrace.

The long trip was silent except for the loud rattling of Orion’s armor and Jazz’s occasional soft humming when it seemed Orion was going to slip into a full blown panic attack.

The black and white mech was fully informed on what had happened in the lower levels of the coliseum, thanks to a data packet sent from Megatronus. And what he saw disturbed him. Overlord was a name not known well on the upper levels, but his violent reputation preceded him to those familiar with the gladiatorial underworld. Orion was lucky to be physically intact and this mentally sound.

Jazz gave a soft hum and softly kiss the top of Orion’s helm as the archivist gave another strong shutter and a keen. 

Also thank Primus Orion had finally given in and let Jazz teach him how to defend himself and had taken the thin knife to hide beneath his armor plating. That knife will have to be replaced with another, and preferably longer, knife as the one Orion had now had snapped at the hilt. Shame Orion hadn’t armed himself with a longer knife. If it had been a bit longer it would have pierced Overlord’s processer. 

“Rest up Amica,” Jazz crooned in Orion’s audial when the archivist gave a small yawn, “we still got a couple hours ‘til we get back to Iacon. I’ll guard you; I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

Orion gave a little hiccupping sob and nuzzled into Jazz’s chest while the visored mech cooed and stroked his Amica’s trembling back. The soft, whispered, “I love you too, Jazz…” was barely even audible in the quiet of the cabin, but Jazz still heard it none the less and smiled down at his precious friend.

“You’re too good for this world, OP.” Jazz’s words went unheard though as Orion fell into a fitful but much needed recharge.

~+~+~

The rest of the three hour ride back to the safety of Iacon passed quickly as Jazz kept steady vigil over the resting Orion. 

The monochrome mech kept a majority of the nightterrors away with a powerful and articulate EM Field pulsing SAFE, LOVE, PROTECTING, whenever Orion’s field started to writh or when plating started to rattle. When they finally reached the Iacon station Jazz was reluctant to rouse his friend.

“Hey, OP we’re here.”

Orion awoke with a small gasp and a start that made Jazz’s spark clench; especially when Orion’s optics panicked optics jumped around the small cabin like a trapped bitmouse in a cage.

“Hey hey hey. It’s okay, we’re in Iacon now. You ready to go out there?” Jazz gently took Orion by the shoulders and waited for Orion to recognize everything. 

Taking a deep shuddering vent Orion fortified himself for the trip to central Iacon and the Hall of Records.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Orion’s voice shook as he gave Jazz a small but determined smile.

“That’s all I ask, Amica.” Jazz pulled Orion into a quick but tight embrace which was gladly reciprocated.

The two mechs stood and made their way out of the train, but Orion paused when they entered the station. Everything seemed to be plated or at least engraved in shimmering gold and platinum, and when Orion gazed up at the ceiling he was amazed to see a vast detailed mosaic depicting the legend of the Thirteen Primes made of seemingly trillions of multifacetted precious gems that seemed to glow and burn like living multicolored flames. Even the tiled floors were opulent to the extreme. The tiny copper and bronse tiles spiraled out from the center in a chevron pattern that seemed to draw mech and optic to the center of the large gilded room. 

“We’re in the Centeral Iacon Station!” Orion whispered and clung tight to Jazz’s side like rust as he took everything in: Ornate alabaster columns heavily detailed in platinum, large solid gold statues of the Thirteen Primes, so detailed they looked alive, knelt towards the center of the room where an emence chandelier made entirely of multi-faceted clear crystals that floated in a powerful magnetic field, large extravagant tapestries hug from floor to ceiling on the walls showing other Cybertronian legends in great detail.

It was positivly perverslyin its opulence, and it made Orion feel filthy. The harsh and judging looks from passing high caste mechs and femmes certainly didn’t help.

“Sure is.” Came Jazz’s chipper voice. To those around the mechs the voice was bubbily and gloating, but Orion knew Jazz well enough to tell it was an act: He felt as dirty as Orion did.

Then, true concern and apology entered his voice and field, “I know you are unused to this grandeur, but I figured you didn’t need to suffer through the long trip from Outer Iacon Station to the Hall of Records.” Jazz wrapped an arm around his Amica’s shoulders in a tight one armed hug that didn’t completely loosen once it was over, for which Orion was grateful.

Orion gave Jazz a small tired smile and a nod. He could, and would rather, suffer this short filthy feeling to a long tortuous drive through the city and jumping at imagined attackers.

Together they walked through the vast and decadant room until they reached the center of the room where the jagged lined spiral began. They weren’t the only ones in the center though.

A pair of senators and a hand full of others of the highest castes were chatting to each other occasionally looking up at the life-like statues of the kneeling Primes with either a sneer or a smug smirk.

A flash of anger reared up in Orion as he watched the group, but was quick to tamp down on it. 

As if forcing the entire populace of Cybertron to kneel before them wasn’t enough. 

While the senators ignored the two lower mechs Orion stopped making Jazz give him a worried look that turned curious when he saw Orion was fine. 

Quietly, subtly, Orion bowed to each of the Primes around him. Jazz shook his helm with a fond smile on his face and gave the statues a proud salute.

One of the higher caste mechs, a femme actually, huffed a laugh at them, like a being a higher intellect taking amusment from a lower creature trying to do something smart and failing, before turning her attention back to the group. The pair ignored once more.

Orion mentally scowled at her, but knew better than to do so physically. There were rumors about others disappearing when one of the upper castes took offence to something. 

With a deep sigh he tilted his helm back and stared up at the chandaler when he jolted in surprise.

The grand chandelier was multi tiered with millions of small, sharp, multi-faceted crystals in a circular pattern that was hollow I the middle. In the large gap at the center of the chandelier was a realistic mosaic similar in style to the surrounding mosaic, of Primus. Their creator god was surrounded on all sides by the floating crystal chandelier and was the most detailed piece in the garish room. Which was saying a lot. Primus had the frame type of a sleek convoy and was bedecked in silver and rare jewls and atop his majestic helm sat a glorious crown that seemed more detailed than Primus himself. Their Creater looked like an emperor staring down upon his subjects with unblinking blue optics. The smile upon the depiction’s face was supposed to make him appear like a loving Creator, instead, because of the emotionless bland stare of the optics, seemed false and uncaring.

Now Orion did frown. He didn’t know why, but everything about the depiction seemed wrong. From his thick overly grand silver and jewled armor, his cold expression, to the crown upon his helm. He felt that their Creator did not look like that at all.

“Come’on OP. Let’s get going, we’re going to be late to the Archives.” Jazz said knocking Orion out of his observations.

The red and blue mech gave a small smile and nod, and they continued on their way.

~+~+~

It had been a quick drive from the Central Station to Orion’s apartment neighboring the Archives, which Orion was glad of, and now Jazz and Orion sat on the multi colored mech’s berth holding each other.

Jazz bummed a low and smooth song he had heard on the radio, his whole frame vibrating with the deep bass of his hum; nearly a musical purr. Orion sat pressed to Jazz’s side, his audial pressed against his Amica’s chassis right over his spark listening to the hum and thrum of his spark.

“How long are you going to stay?” Orion’s timid voice barely rose above the deep humming. 

Jazz sighed mournfully and stroked his friend’s back. “Unfortunately, not long. I pinged A3 when we were on our way to your apartment, he’ll be here soon.” The monochrome mech reassured when he felt Orion tense slightly at the thought of being alone.

Relaxing a little, Orion nuzzled Jazz’s chest and squeezed him tighter, nearly climbing ontop of the thinner mech.

Their little moment was shattered when the pair heard a loud scratching at the door to the apartment. 

Jazz tensed, his visor snapped down in an automatic response to a possible threat. Orion jumped, now completely on top of Jazz, and locked optics on the door when a loud whine and another scratch came from the door.

Relief bloomed through Orion and was about to get up to open the door when the double beep of someone unlocking it and the soft whoosh of the door opening haled the thunderous pede steps of a charging cyberdog. 

“Atlas!” Orion cried out in joy as the large mechanimal zoomed through the apartment and skidded to a halt, nearly headbutting the archivist. 

“BROOF BROOF!”

Jazz winced as Atlas’s loud bark assaulted his sensitive audial, but Orion lunged at the cyberdog, Atlas, and hugged him close.

Atlas whined softly, licking what he could reach of Orion; namely his back.

“Hey there Mutt.” Jazz greeted, dialing down the sensitivity of his audials.

“Atlas is a pure bred Simfur Rounded and you will refer to him as such Jazz.” A fond, ancient voice, belonging to a just as ancient looking mech, came from the entrance of the apartment.

“Glad to see you, A3. I have to say I didn’t expect you’d bring Mutt when you said you were on your way.”

“Thank you, Alpha Trion… won’t the Archives miss him though?” 

The ancient mech, Alpha Trion, smiled down sadly at his little archivist whose face was peeking up from Atlas’s thick neck.

“It will be no problem; Atlas is more yours than the Hall of Records’ anyway. Isn’t that right Atlas?” 

Atlas ‘borf’ed from his place on the floor when he heard his name; tail wagging as Orion held and stroked him.

“Well, I need to head off now if I wanna be on time for my next delivery. You take care OP. A3.” Jazz stood and, with a parting hug to both Orion and Atlas (the latter which gave him a lick), and a meaningful look to Alpha Trion, left the apartment.

Alpha Trion, stiff backed since he had entered the room, seemed to deflate and wilt when the door locked behind Jazz.

“Orion Pax...”

“Don’t. I know you’re upset I keep sneeking out but I need to do this.” The archivist would have been more convincing if his voice wasn’t so staticky and muffled by the cyberdog his faceplates were pressed against.

Alpha gave a disappointed sigh and shook his helm. “Orion, your meetings with Megatronus are going to end in tragedy if you keep them up.”

“No! We are fighting for something we believe in and they need my help! I refuse to stand back and allow my fellow Cybertornians to suffer when I can do something!” Orion’s conviction was strong, Alpha could hear it even as his little archivist’s voice was garbled by static and cracking.

“I would not have you simply lie down and let the corruption run. But I do not think they way your friends are completely in the right. But!” Alpha Trion interrupted before Orion could object, “Now is not the time for that discussion. You have survived through something terrible and need to rest, my friend. I shall stay as long as I can with your permission.” 

Orion paused before nodding, helm still pressed against Atlas making the Head Archivist smile softly.

“Come, lay down on your birth. That floor can’t be comfortable. When are you going to decorate this place more? It can certainly use a rug or two…”

~+~+~

Atlas was a good boy! Or at least that’s what Atlas considered himself. Sure he liked stealing the occasional treat off a table but Atlas had long ago decided that the sweet treats were well worth being a “naughty boy”. Besides, the Old Prime and Sleeping Prime always loved him and pet him and said he was such a good boy! Two Primes can’t be wrong!

Atlas lay on the Sleeping Prime’s floor, head on his large paws keeping a silent vigil over his best friend. The Singing Friend of the Sleeping Prime had left earlier leaving the two Primes alone. This made Atlas sad. The Singing Friend always made the Sleeping Prime happy and always had a treat for Atlas. This time though the Singing Friend didn’t have a treat, but that was okay; he probably gave them to the Sleeping Prime! The Singing Friend was also a good boy!

But now the Singing Friend left so it was up to Atlas to make the Primes happy! 

Atlas had let the Sleeping one howl and leak into his neck and hold him tight even if the Sleeping Prime’s Field made Atlas feel a bit dizzy. Atlas was a good boy; he’d help his best friend Sleeping Prime no matter what! 

The Old Prime had stayed in the Sleeping Prime’s den for a long time. He had even let Atlas on the berth with the Sleeping Prime! Atlas had never been allowed on the Two-Legger’s berths! He was so happy he had to tell the Sleeping Prime! The Sleeping one had smiled and his sad/sacred field had gotten a little happy! He had even given Atlas scritches! Not that he didn’t give scritches often but more sctritches are always amazing!!!

Then the Old Prime left. Atlas whined and cuddled up to Sleeping Prime; Sleeping Prime still needed him! He couldn’t leave yet!

Old Prime had smiled and pet Atlas’s head and told Atlas to “Stay” and “Protect.”. Atlas ‘boof’ed, jumped down from the berth and was still standing vigil over his Friend.

Soon the Sleeping Prime fell asleep and Atlas was growing a bit tired himself. He’d layed down to rest when the Sleeping Prime’s Field snapped at him covered in TERROR. 

Immediately Atlas was on his paws, ears and nose up trying to find the Bad One that scared the Sleeping Prime. No one was there but them. The Sleeping Prime was having a nightmare! 

Atlas was quick to jump up on the soft berth and paw at the Sleeping Prime.

Atlas let out a whine as the Sleeping Prime’s eye’s began to leak. Atlas cried and licked the fluids away, but they just kept comeing! 

Anger started griwing in Atlas. How dare a nightmare scare the Sleeping Prime! Atlas would have to scare the Bad Thing away!

BROOF!!!

Atlas let out a loud, angry bark, the kind he used when Bad People tried to hurt the Friends at Atlas’s den.

Immediately, the Bad nightmare left! Good boy, Atlas!  
And the Sleeping Prime woke up with a small scream. Naughty boy, Atlas!

Atlas cried and licked the Sleeping Prime’s face, cleaning it of the leaked fluids and comforting the Prime earning Atlas a hug and a kiss and several “Good boy”s. 

Atlas wagged his tail and jumped on the Sleeping Prime, who let out a loud “Oof.”, flattening the Prime on the bed.

The Sleeping Prime wriggled a bit, trying to free himself, but was unable to free himself from under Atlas’s mass.

“Fine, you can stay and keep the nightmares away.” The Sleeping Prime chuckled, skritching Atlas behind an ear.

Atlas was so happy he locked the Primes face making the two-legger sputter and laugh “Ha-ha! Good boy Atlas!”

After a while the Sleeping Prime fell asleep with a large comforting blanket of Atlas and Atlas’s weak but ever present and protective field. 

No night terror dared to get past the mighty Atlas thus letting the Sleeping Prime get the rest he deserved!

Yes, Atlas considers himself a good boy. He’ll protect his pack and keep the Sleeping Prime safe from any that dare harm him!

**Author's Note:**

> Being relatively new to writing long fics I have to ask: Should I've broken this up into separate chapters?
> 
> And another thing!  
> I won't be updating until after mid-June. I'm going to be very busy for a while.  
> Just a bit of a heads up! :)


End file.
